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“Yeah. How it was, but ain’t how it is no more. They want the Cartels bad. And that shit goes all the way up to D.C. This new administration is doing more than theJust Say No To Drugscampaign of the Reagan days. This shit is serious and any port in the storm is fair game—they don’t give two fucks who they take down in the process. They’re spending millions on getting brothers to flip. The more soldiers that go down, the better chance there is for someone to rat out. And if the right fucker does that? We all know that everything and everyone associated with that information will go down like a house of cards.”
Prosper paused to give the men time to think. “ The feds aim to leave no man standing and the last thing we want to do is get caught in that cross fire. Feeling that, the executive board has met a couple of times over the last few days and ciphered out the situation…weighed the risks against the gains. We unanimously voted to do some heavy lifting and get out of some of the more dangerous shit we got going on. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that my internal compass ain’t exactly pointing to the moral high ground, but I’ve never been comfortable with the drug business —for a lot of reasons. And now number one reason I ain’t so comfortable is that outspoken, righteous, stick up her ass, Judge Carmichael, who has made this her damn pet project. I for one, do not want to go head to toe with that bitch. And to be honest, our margins ain’t making it worth the time or the risk anymore.”
Clusters of conversations broke out in the room and Prosper waited a few minutes. Then he cleared his throat and began again. “Now I know there’s a concern about earning. The profit that the heroin trade brings in ain’t chump change. I ain’t denying it. What I’m sayin’ is the risk is starting to outweigh the gain.”
A voice called out in protest. “Gain is pretty fucking substantial. I’d like to be a part of that. Are we a bike club or just a bunch of lame dicks running scared anytime the heat gets too hot?”
“Jesus, here we fucking go again.” Diego muttered underneath his breath, but still loud enough for the Riker and the rest of the boys to hear. Over the years, Drummer Jones had become a real pain in the ass. Reason being was that his general attitude sucked most of the time and he said stupid insulting shit like this.
“Hey Drummer,” Reno called out. “What’s the difference between your dick and a joke?”
“Fuck off with your stupid stand up, Reno.” Drummer growled.
Reno bellowed back with a grin. “Nobody laughs at your jokes!”
The room erupted into tension breaking howls.
Drummer just scowled and flipped Reno off.
Prosper waited until the good- natured guffaws died down. Then he continued on.
“I hear your concern, brother.” Prosper said to Drummer. The he looked at each man around the table slowly and deliberately. “And I know this is gonna sting and I wouldn’t be bringing it to the table if I hadn’t considered every other option. But the truth is, it’s time boys. I got some ideas of how we can make up for that cash flow, but it’ll be a while before we can get it all together. Having said that, if things go the way I think they will, over the next two years our earning power will double. And the best part of it is that most of that revenue will be from legitimate sources. And those businesses of ours that ain’t? Well, they won’t come back to bite us, not in the way drug-trafficking will.”
“And what the hell are we supposed to do in the meantime to get by? Pull the money out of our asses?” Drummer snarled. “Or you gonna cover our expenses, boss?”
“Watch yourself, Drummer-boy. And remember who the fuck you’re talking to.” Diego’s voice was laced with quiet violence. “This one time, I’ll chalk up your fucking bad judgment as a knee jerk reaction to news you didn’t come here today expecting to hear. But the next time? The next time you even think about showing disrespect at this table of brotherhood, or as much as frown at the man who’s sitting at the head of it? you better think again, you disagreeable fuck. Because I even get a whiff of your self-serving, denigrating attitude again? I’m gonna knock your teeth so far down your throat you’re gonna have to stick a toothbrush up your ass to brush ’em.”
While the rest of the brothers fell silent, Drummer looked down at his boots and a muscle leapt in his rigid jaw, but he didn’t say a word.
Prosper stood up. “Think about what I said, boys. Talk amongst yourselves. I’m gonna go get a brew and take a leak. You got fifteen minutes, then we’re gonna take a vote.”
Prosper and his executive crew left the soldiers to ruminate. It was precisely fifteen minutes later that they walked back in the room.
Prosper took his seat at the head of the table.
“Boys have got a few questions before we cast. That work for you, boss?” Riker asked.
“Absolutely. Tell me what’s on your mind, boys.” Prosper relaxed his shoulders and leaned in to listen.
“What are we gonna do with the heroin we got now? We gonna distribute that out to our runners?” Gunner asked.
“We could.” Prosper nodded. “But the Aces have offered to buy it from us for a damn good price. It’ll mean transporting it across a couple of state lines but Hez is takin’ that risk into account and giving us a differential.”
The men around the table did some more talking while Prosper, Jules, Diego and Reno had their own sidebar.
Gunner nodded, sat forward in his chair and the men quieted. “The guys and I are wondering about the opioids and coke?”
Prosper shook his head. “That business is gonna stay as is, for now.”
More subdued conversations before Gunner lifted his chin again. “Boys are wondering just how good this deal is with the Aces.”
“They’re offering a twenty-five percent increase over street value.” Diego told them.
Satisfied nods all around and a bit more discussion before Gunner lifted two fingers in the air.
“Okay then. We’re ready.”
“Chair recognizes Gunner.”
